Violet Beauregarde
by manufactured chaos
Summary: Willy Wonka sees Violet Beauregarde on television. Based on the 2005 movie . . . I'm sorry, Mr. Dahl! Pretty harmless, unless you really like Violet. Which, I suppose, is possible. But I don't care. It still get's a rating of K. So there.


**Author's Note!** So, this one is about Violet Beauregarde. Interesting, huh? Like some other fic I did recently, I didn't write a draft of this first, so maybe keep that in mind when you review, okay? I mean, I don't mind if you tell me this sucks, because it very well might. This is 2005-movie-based -- I'm sorry!

Mr. **W**onka was in his study again, watching the news. It wasn't terribly interesting news, and he very much wished he hadn't thought to watch the news for the next Winners.

This contest really was more trouble than it was worth.

Even so, Mr. **W**onka knew that it was important. He was, in fact, a very old man, and who knew how long his good cheer and good health would continue? The point was, he needed an heir. And who better to run a factory, he though cynically, than a fat little boy who only ate chocolate, or a spoiled little girl who never had to do an honest day's work in her life? He wondered what the next little monster would be like.

While Willy **W**onka was busy being cynical, the newscaster heard something in his little earphone.

"Oh. My. Gawd," he said, his eyes widening. "It's the moment you've been waiting for, folks. The third Golden Ticket has been found!

"Okay, we're going to switch over to Helen, at the scene. Helen?"

"Yes, Mike," exclaimed Helen into the microphone, "here we are, with a Miss Violet Bearegarde, who claims to have found the third Golden Ticket! Now, Violet, this is a very important moment for you. How do you feel?"

**W**onka stared dumbly at the girl on the screen. She was… To put it simply, she was _wrong_. She was just not … right. Well. She did have the confidence he would need. She was definitely confident, and… Well. Mr. **W**onka didn't really know what to think of her. She had some problems.

For one thing, she didn't even really like chocolate. She said it herself! And she was rather … _competitive_. She was probably the type who'd sacrifice quality for money, and that was _definitely_ not what he wanted or needed in an heir. He needed someone _creative._ This gum-chewing little brat wasn't creative in the least.

The gum-chewing! Oh, the repulsion… If there was one thing Willy **W**onka hated, it was gum. It was something he had inherited from his dentist of a father…

The room seemed to grow fuzzy as Mr. **W**onka retreated into his mind to take a look at his past…

_The room is dark at first, then fades in. The room flickers a bit, a funny, sepia tone. A boy sits in the corner, clutching something in his left hand. We see a man, pacing around the room, waving his hands. We can see that he is shouting, but there is no noise. The boy unclenches his fist, to reveal something small and rectangular, wrapped in thin, white paper._

_Man: What is that?_

_Boy:_ (frightened)_ Nothing! It's nothing!_

_Man: Is that so…? Give it to me._

_Boy: N… No! I won't. I don't have to. I don't. I don't, I don't, I don't…! _(The boy closes his eyes tightly, clutching his closed fist to his chest.)

_Man: It's gum, isn't it? Isn't it, Willy? It's gum! What have I told you about gum?_ (He raises a hand to the boy, as if about to strike him)

_Boy:_ (whispering)_ No, no, no, no, no…_

_(Fade to black.)_

The vivid colors of reality returned to the room, and Willy **W**onka opened his eyes with a start, snapping back into the present.

"Sorry," he said out of habit, "I was having a flashback…"

On the television, Ms. Beauregarde was proudly telling everyone about her daughter's accomplishments. Mr. **W**onka paid her no mind.

"Well," he muttered, scribbling on his pad, "at least it's not hard to pick a place to get rid of her. That gum's still dysfunctional, right? Of course it is…"

**Author's Note!** Whoo. That was lovely, wasn't it? Simply delightful. I don't know that it made much sense… That flashback was unnecessary and stupid, in my opinion. But, you know, why not delve a teensy little bit into the Wonderful World of Willy Wonka's Childhood? With a nasty father, of course. Because … I don't know. I just felt like it. Whoo. 606 words --- so much more than usual, eh? This whole document might get more than 1,000…!

I've been reading a lot of Artemis Fowl slashfiction (Domovoi/Artemis). Should I try my hand at writing some?

Anyway. Review or I kill you!


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